Christopher Michael, gay, gay poetry, homosexual, lgbt, queer

Poetry Challenge

Looking for gay poets who publish on WordPress and are also on Facebook. I want to do a 5 day poetry challenge that crosses both social media outlets. That means “friending” on Facebook, then start the challenge. It isn’t difficult to share work from WP onto FB.

If you think that’s a cool idea, get back at me and lets make this thing happen,

xx

christopher

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Christopher Michael, gay, gay poetry, homosexual, lgbt, queer

This Is Where I Go

This Is Where I Go

Angry, mad as screaming banshees in the
D-rated scare flicks, yelling with dull tribal brutality,
pissed, rankled, shouting unspoken love sonnets
on the boulevard, 10 cents a dance, honey,
all night for a $20.
I can make you happy in boxcars speeding across
America looking for Whitman’s manly love;
Can make you happy as Harriet when Ozzie’s
brings home the bacon;
Can make you thrill or dance to any tune you got
in your head;
Can rev you up or bring you down way low,
way too low next door to death’s last breath;
Can get you high, higher than birdsongs,
higher than planes can fly;
Can get you up, off or down, whichever way
you want to go;
Can get you off, can get you on, on to Needle
Park, rats in alleys behind the bar closing at
4am, where dancing males sluggishly drone
to keep methed out dreams alive;
Can get you to places where nice boys don’t
know, don’t go;
Can get you down dark alleys where streetlights
cast no glare, sex behind dumpsters, a fix
for tricks and party boys, thugs selling crack
and H and their asses, anything goes if you’ve
got the scratch;
Can get you up to the penthouse heights singing
party boys with champagne fountains, it’s all for hire,
all for show, all yours if you wanna blow,
blow it all away.

This is where I go: booths and stalls where
hard cocks wait for lips to suck them dry,
leave with no names, nothing exchanged but a
mouthful of gizz, asses are bared for anyone to
fill that hole, that hole, that unfillable assful;
This is where I go, no more than anything holy,
no more than sad, no more than high, no more
than down and out;
This is where I go: wandering aimless through
parks, paths leading to secret spots, everyone
knows, lead to moments of glory, hallelujah,
snort and sniff some high, shoot it big wide and go,
leave behind the sad creatures finding love in
the wrong joints;
This where I go: beer halls, cheap bars with
tired-assed dancer boys shaking their nothing for
dollars, sad-eyed bartenders saying what you have,
working for tips, take home booty at last call;
This is where I go: speeded up, cranked too high,
brought down way low, looking for what I can’t
find, don’t want, desperately need, searching
coming home, drying out, begin again in an instant
for that high, so high God gotta reach down to
get me, so low, so very very low, the earth swallowed
me up, spit me out low down, hating me, hating
the way it got to be, hating it all, up again on the
prowl, moving, hunting til game’s end, psychotic circles,
empty brain, sad little boy cries, in the end,
sad little boy cries.

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